


Scoring Points

by theianitor



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 09:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6464503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theianitor/pseuds/theianitor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenson notices how Mark and Fernando act around one another, and gives himself points when he catches them acting like they're more than friends. It's a pretty easy game to win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When Jenson starts seriously noticing it, he can’t stop himself from seeing it everywhere. He wonders how long it has been going on, because now that he’s looking for it, it’s so obvious. A part of him feels a little hurt that they haven’t told him. They’re all friends, and they can’t possibly think that he’d mind. Maybe it’s just a precaution, not telling anyone at all. He’s sort of made a game of it for himself, seeing how many little things he can spot, giving himself points.

Thinking back, the first thing he remembers is the FIA Awards last year. They were all suited and booted and Fernando kept messing with his bowtie, so badly that he finally managed to untie it altogether.

“Here, let me fix it.” And then Mark leaned in and tied it again. There was nothing special about _that_ , what had caught Jenson’s attention was the way Fernando was looking at the Aussie while he was doing it. There was such warmth in his eyes you’d have to be blind to miss it.

“Thank you.” Fernando said when Mark was done, and gave him a pat on the arm. Mark smiled, and... the moment was gone, the air switched back to one of colleagues and friends, but Jenson had definitely seen something. He retroactively gives it two points.

 

At drivers’ meetings, Jenson can count on them getting coffee for each other. It used to be worth one point, but when he realizes that some time ago Mark stopped asking “just one sugar, yeah?” and started just handing Fernando a cup, he ups it to two points. There is also something of a routine set up of Fernando putting his jacket, his notes, anything really, on the chair next to him – making sure to move whatever it is when Mark arrives. It almost makes Jenson laugh out loud one time when Kimi completely ignores Fernando telling him the seat is taken, sitting down anyway. It’s definitely two points; the Spaniard actually _pouts_.

 

Jenson knows Mark and Fernando have been friends for a long time, and they’re both the kind of people who like to make contact when speaking to people they like. He starts noticing that their touches linger however, and that sometimes they touch – discreetly, they seem to think – when they’re not talking and they think nobody is watching. Each time he catches it, he gets two more points.

Jenson decides to make an experiment out of it and the next time they’re all together, just standing around chatting, he puts his arm around Fernando’s shoulders. It’s all in good fun of course, but he lets it go just a little too long, a little too friendly. He looks up, and the look in Mark’s eyes makes him pull his arm back as if it had been burned. It’s the kind of cold stare that spawned expressions like ‘if looks could kill’. Jenson later observes the same look aimed at Sebastian when the younger man is messing around with Fernando’s cap. Sebastian doesn’t notice, but when they all leave the room Fernando’s hand gently strokes Mark’s back, just once, but the Aussie is significantly calmer afterwards. Definitely five points.

 

They’re in a hotel restaurant when Jenson gives himself his first full ten points and a pat on the back for getting it right. They’re talking about everything and nothing, mostly about the cars and the season so far, and Jenson is focused on his food when he hears it.

“Oh my god, you’ve got to try this.” He looks up, trying not to be obvious about it, and just catches Mark feeding Fernando a piece of something with his fork. He seems to remember himself, because he quickly looks away and suddenly seems incredibly focused on his food, but Jenson has, again, caught it. You don’t look at someone who is just your friend like that, he thinks to himself. It’s a look shared between lovers, full of warmth and promise. Bloody hell, he thinks to himself. They’ve got it bad. Jenson briefly wonders if anyone else has noticed this. He sees no signs of it though, but figures it’s down to the fact that he does know both Fernando and Mark pretty well.

 

A few of them have gotten together to watch a movie when Jenson decides enough is enough. Both Mark and Fernando are going out of their way to not touch each other, like they’re afraid of tipping anyone off. Still, when Jenson tries to steal some of Fernando’s popcorn he gets his hand slapped. A moment later, Mark does the same thing. No slap. Another point.

When he is sure, he decides to let them know that he knows. It’s only fair. They shouldn’t have to hide at all, and especially not in front of a friend, he figures. When he comes down for breakfast he notices that Fernando has already grabbed a table off to the side. Where they are less likely to be seen, Jenson thinks, smiling to himself as he approaches.

“Sorry, that seat is taken.” Fernando says when he goes for the chair on his right.

“You know I kind of figured you’d say that.” Jenson smiles and sits down on his left instead. Fernando looks displeased. “Relax, I just wanted to talk to you and...” Just then Mark comes over, holding two cups of coffee.

“Jense.” He greets curtly, setting one cup down in front of Fernando. Jenson has to smile. They couldn’t make it any more obvious that he’s interrupting their morning routine, and he _does_ feel a little bad about it, but he has to do this.

“Mark.” Jenson says happily. Fernando has of course heard Mark’s tone. As soon as Mark has sat down, Jenson notes that the Spaniard’s hand is on his leg under the table. He wouldn’t have seen it if he wasn’t this close. Mark seems less tense for it, but he still giving Jenson sort of a hard look.

“I just wanted to talk to you both, so if you could just pop up to my room after breakfast..?”

“Is something wrong?” There is worry in Fernando’s voice and Jenson realizes he may have sounded a little ominous. Oh well, can’t be helped.

“No no, I just want to talk. I’ll see you later.” He leaves the table and looks back to see Mark and Fernando talking, leaned in close together.

 

He isn’t sure if they’ll arrive together, but is glad when they do. For a second, he wasn’t sure that they’d arrive at all. They aren’t touching but they both look like they’d like to be.

“So what’s going on mate?”

“I just wanted to know how long you two have been seeing each other.” Jenson says with a knowing smile. Fernando’s eyes are instantly full of fear and he looks up at Mark. Mark just looks at Jenson, his face blank, his jaw set.

“And what makes you think that?”

“It’s the little things.” Jenson is still smiling. “You know I’m the last person to judge, Mark, seriously. I won’t tell anyone. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be on edge around me.” He puts his hand on Mark’s shoulder and relief floods him when Mark seems to relax into his touch. He pulls Mark in for a short hug, and when he lets go he realizes Fernando has taken Mark’s hand and is looking at Jenson with something like gratitude.

“Just... invite me to the wedding, okay guys?” He figures it will be worth about a million points.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game is over, but points are still being scored...

At first, Jenson is fine. Perfectly fine. He seems to be the only one who really notices the glances, the touches, the little moments of too-much-to-be-just-friends that keep occurring between Fernando and Mark. He’s come clean about his little game, and while Mark sighs and tells him he is “such a child sometimes”, Fernando laughs and calls it romantic.

The relationship between all three of them is better, which is good. Jenson’s realized that the other two were being very cautious, especially around him since he seemed to be keeping an eye on them – which of course he was, so fair play to Mark and Fernando.

 

That is, however, not the case anymore. Their zone of comfort seems to have expanded greatly since Jenson told them he both knew about their relationship and didn’t mind it one bit. He’s happy for them, he really is. But since his little game ended, everything he notices just seems to irk him. And since they know he knows, they’ve stopped minding him, and so he keeps noticing them.

It’s not so bad, really. Well, Jenson thinks, it could have been _worse_. Neither Mark nor Fernando is into public displays of affection. Luckily, they’re not the kind of couple who are joined at the lips as soon as they’re together. But before, at least he had his little game to amuse himself with and in a way it was exciting to be the only one who knew about this. Now every time he sees them do anything, all he can think is that he doesn’t have what they have.

 

They sit down together and he just knows they’ve joined hands under the table, or that their legs are touching, or that one has his hand on the other’s thigh. They put their arms around each other sometimes. And sometimes Fernando will sort of get up on his toes, Mark supporting him with one arm, under the pretense of talking in this noisy environment, except it’s _not_ just to talk, it’s the most subtle of hugs and it’s true love and it _sucks._

Even just the way they sometimes lock eyes, like nothing else in the world exists and they could easily sit there and just happily _stare_ at each other forever... It all just reminds Jenson that nobody is looking at him that way. Sure, there are people he likes well enough, but not like _that_. He could tell Mark to chill out for hours and it wouldn’t have the same effect as a single pat on the back from Fernando, and he knows this. There are people who reassure him, ground him, make him feel better when he's down – but not like _that_. He can’t even share his thoughts with anyone, because he _is_ really happy for them, and nobody else knows. He feels bad for feeling irritated. He understands it must be difficult.

“I brought you a coffee.” A voice says beside him.

“Mhm, thanks.” He replies, taking the cup and taking a sip, still looking at Mark and Fernando who seem to have gotten completely lost in each other’s eyes. It’s much too sweet... and he doesn’t really like coffee.

 

The only time he catches them doing something intimate, it really hits home that he’s envious. Jenson’s just passing through, taking a bit of a shortcut. There aren’t many people around; it’s early and it isn’t race-day and the garage door is shut, but still... he clears his throat when he sees them. Fernando’s legs uncross from around Mark’s waist and his arms fly away from around the taller man’s neck. Mark spins around and looks like he’s trying to shield Fernando from view. Jenson shoots them both a look of “guys, _really_?”. Even if he hadn’t seen them at it, they couldn’t look any more like they were just caught snogging; both slightly disheveled and out of breath, Fernando’s cheeks slightly red, Mark looking kind of pale.

“Sorry mate I eh...” Jenson lifts his hands and Mark stops talking and instead fusses a little with his racing suit. Behind him, Fernando hops down from the counter he was perched on, looking extremely embarrassed. He runs his hands through his hair nervously, trying to tame it a little.

“Is not...” he starts, but Jenson cuts across.

“For two people trying to keep something secret, you’re doing a pretty crap job of it. Just be careful.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out quite so harsh, but seeing them like that stings in ways he’s thoroughly uncomfortable with. He leaves quickly and feels like a complete arse for the rest of the day.

 

He apologizes. Of course he does. It’s not their fault. They apologize too, and Jenson understands. He understands the hiding and being in love and how bad it sucks over all, but he just keeps seeing it and envy keeps rearing its ugly head. Also, he worries, because if it were to get out... he doesn’t even like to think about it.

The weather seems to pick up on his mood. It’s cold and grey and threatening rain. Jenson isn’t even really looking forward to racing, but racing always comes first so he does his best to push all else aside. Walking down the pit lane, he’s hoping to catch Mark alone so maybe they can have lunch together. He’s not even six feet from the garage when the skies open up and an all-mighty downpour has everything drenched within seconds. Jumping in under the tiny canopy, he just catches a glimpse of two figures, one tall and one smaller, huddled together under one big red and white umbrella, making their way towards the hospitality area and the cafeteria. He sighs.

“You can have this one.” someone says, handing him an umbrella.

“Thank you.” Jenson replies automatically, opening it and setting off after Mark and Fernando. Putting up with them is still better than eating alone.

 

\--

 

It’s been a while since Jenson told Mark and Fernando he suspected – well, knew really – about them. Since he let them know, the point-scoring has sort of become a joke between the two of them. Fernando will hold the door for Mark, and he’ll say “that’s a point”. Mark will get Fernando a bottle of water and Fernando will tell him it’s “worth two points”. They don’t really keep score, but part of Fernando still finds it ridiculously romantic just to _tell_ Mark he’s scoring points, just to let him know he both notices and appreciates what he does for him.

Since Jenson walked in on them they’re being a lot more careful. It was just a daring, spur-of-the-moment thing, and while it felt very good at the time they agree that if someone other than the one person who happens to know about them had walked in, it would have been catastrophic. No, from now on, anything more adventurous than brief contact is reserved for hotel rooms and breaks spent together as much as possible.

 

Tonight, Mark sneaks into Fernando’s room, making sure the hall outside is empty before using the extra key-card. The Spaniard is on the bed, still dressed but fast asleep, snoozing softly. The TV is on and casting a flickering bluish light into the room, but the volume is muted.

“I didn’t know you were into figure-skating mate.” Mark teases as Fernando sleepily stirs, squinting up at him. His hair is standing at some quite impressive angles and Mark quickly takes his shoes off and sits down on the bed to pat him on the head.

“Was not skating when I started watching?” he says, sounding a little confused. Mark just snickers and starts helping the still mostly sleeping Fernando get out of his clothes and ready for bed. As he wraps the covers around him, Fernando mumbles “is at least five points”. Mark kisses him on the temple and gets ready for bed too.

 

Fernando is the first to notice it. He’s sort of gotten used to letting his guard down a little bit around Jenson. Not to the point of taking him for granted in any way, but it really feels good to be safe, even when there is someone else around. They still make jokes about all the things Jenson noticed between them; they really thought they were being so discreet. Maybe that’s what makes him notice it, actually, the fact that he knows now what is secret and what isn’t so secret after all.

Because it truly is the littlest of things, and once he starts noticing, he sees it everywhere. It’s holding doors, saving seats, getting coffee. Jenson doesn’t even like coffee that much. He knows that. Mark knows that. But apparently... It’s looks that linger for just too long, smiles that are just a little too much, it’s the most innocent of brushes of a hand against Jenson’s arm or back.

He decides not to tell Mark. He’ll laugh, think it’s silly, or think he’s just wishing Jenson some attention so bad he’s making it up. They talk about Jense sometimes. They both want the absolute best for him, and Fernando finds himself wishing that Jenson could find that person who would treat him well and get him to open up his heart. He deserves love. Maybe Fernando _is_ just making it up.

 

In the end he doesn’t have to tell Mark at all. Mark comes back to their room from a press conference with a strange look on his face, like he doesn’t even quite believe what he’s thinking.

“Hey Nando?” He says, still looking like he’s not sure where to begin. “You know... the points-thing?”

“Yes?” Fernando says cautiously. Mark’s expression doesn’t change, he’s still deep in thought about something.

“I think...” Mark is so doubtful he actually stops talking. Fernando might think this is absolutely crazy. “I think Jense might be...” He stops talking again.

“You think Jenson might be... getting points from somebody?” Fernando fills in. Mark looks at him, slowly digesting what he said.

“Yeah. Yeah I think... I think... but I mean... he’d notice, wouldn’t he?” The Australian is nothing short of incredulous. How could the _one_ person who figured them out not see this, if both he and Fernando have?

They end up sitting on the bed, talking animatedly about whether or not what they have both witnessed is “points”. They agree to not tell Jenson their suspicions, at least not until they are more sure. Neither has seen Jenson returning any “points”, so he may actually be oblivious to the whole thing.

“Maybe he’s just that dense.” Mark suggests jokingly.

“We keep an eye on it.” Fernando concludes. “We wait until we are sure, but we keep an eye on it.”

“Keep score, you mean.” Mark chuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I don't know what happened, but there's more to this. Also, this is the best fandom in the world, and I f*cking love you guys.  
> (And as usual, this is all in good fun. Thanks for the read!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's much easier to score points if you know you're playing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for everything, everyone - here comes the last part! :)

At the press conference the moderator places him next to Jenson. Inside, he’s punching the air in victory. Outwards, he shows nothing at all, nothing beyond a polite smile. He can’t even remember what he’s thinking though because Jenson leans towards him wearing that smile and his eyes are sparkling and how does he smell _that good_? He laughs at whatever Jenson says but it’s only out of politeness, he hasn’t heard a word of it. On his other side, Mark is giving them a look that just screams “you have _got_ to be kidding me”. _Oh crap._

_This is stupid. So stupid._ He faces forward, eyes skimming over the journalists and photographers. They’re all still getting into place so it’s fine for the drivers to talk among themselves. Shit, Jenson’s leaning towards him again. He speaks softly, so close to him – he still can’t hear a single word though. Beside him Mark is chuckling at something, spinning his water bottle round and round on the table. _I can’t wait to get out of here._

 

Once they’re released Mark goes past him, goes over to Jenson and puts his arm around his shoulders.

“Wanna go get a coffee mate?” Mark says. Jenson shudders slightly. _He_ likes to think it’s from the touch. Something inside him doesn’t quite like Mark touching Jenson like that, walking so close, that kind of easy contact. The shudder is not caused by Mark’s touch though, and Jenson’s words make him stop dead in his tracks.

“You asking me out? Make it a tea and I’m all yours!” _He’s laughing. It’s a joke. Calm down, it’s just a joke._

When he finally gets back to his hotel room he slumps down onto the bed and covers his face in his hands with a groan. _Tea. Tea! This is so stupid. I’m so stupid._

 

\--

 

“You should have seen his face mate, it was priceless!” Mark is laughing and Fernando is patiently waiting for him to stop. “It must have been... three, maybe five points? He looked like he wanted to _kill_ me!”

“Is not very nice, Mark.” Fernando calmly points out. He’s smiling, because it _is_ funny, and Mark is acting like a big kid, but he still thinks he could have been nicer about it.

“Oh come on Nando, he would have done the same to me. To us! Besides, it’s proof, isn’t it?” Fernando considers his words.

“Jenson still has not done anything back?” he finally asks. Mark shrugs.

“I guess not. Look, Jense can be kind of daft sometimes, it’s not even a cert that he knows.”

Fernando hums. They’ve agreed to not tell Jenson about their suspicions until they are absolutely sure, but Mark is right; Jenson doesn’t even seem to notice. At least not yet.

 

The next day they’ve all sat down with their lunches, as usual calculated down to the last gram of carb and fat, when one of the lunch personnel calls out “Button!” and Jenson looks up, confused. He walks over to the counter to find someone has bought him a slice of cake. A slice of carrot cake is sitting on a plate, looking moist and perfect, and it’s for him. The woman at the counter doesn’t know who bought it, she says. Jenson believes her. He walks back to the table, slightly stunned.

“Someone bought me cake.”

“That is nice. Secret admirer?” Fernando says with a grin. Jenson is still staring at the slice of cake.

“It’s probably nothing.” Mark dismisses, giving Fernando a sharpish look.

“It’s not _nothing_ , it’s cake.” Jenson states, as if this settles matters beyond any further discussion. “Who would be giving me cake?”

Mark says something under his breath and Fernando snickers. Jenson looks at him sharply. A few tables away, Mark spots a certain someone watching them.

“You know.” Jenson accuses, pointing his fork at Fernando who looks at it, still trying to not burst out laughing.

“Was not me.” He says, voice shaking.

“Never said it was.” Jenson slides the fork through the cake. It even _feels_ like it will taste good. “I said you know. Who?” Putting the forkful of cake in his mouth, he almost groans. Oh, it’s good. He’ll have to work it off, but that will be later. Cake is now.

“Your love of cake is pretty well-known mate, could be anyone. Haven’t noticed anyone being extra nice lately, have you?” Mark offers. Fernando’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.

“I’m just not going to care. I have cake, and you’re both being really childish by not telling me what you know.” Mark and Fernando keep cracking jokes and Jenson does his best to ignore them. He doesn’t care.

 

It’s a blatant lie. Jenson can’t stop thinking about it. The cake-incident isn’t repeated, but he figures it might be because he’s on high alert now. He isn’t noticing Mark and Fernando being close as much, but he realizes they are sharing some kind of in-joke, something between the two of them that he isn’t privy to. If he didn’t know better, he’d say they were keeping an eye on him. He can look up from almost any given situation and find one or both of them somewhere nearby, casually looking his way from time to time. What the hell is going on?

“Good luck today!”

“Yeah, you too.” He says, distracted by finally catching sight of his surveyors. Mark has just leaned down to say something close to Fernando’s ear. Fernando nods once, Mark leaves. Fernando looks over at Jenson, and when he sees him looking, promptly turns away. What are they looking at?!

 

\--

 

It hasn’t escaped him that those two are always hanging around. Last year it was easier to get close to Jenson, even to just... be nearby.

_“Last year he still didn’t notice you”_ a nasty little voice inside promptly reminds him. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Mark and Fernando, but if that’s what it takes... he sighs. He won’t do anything. Nothing more than what he’s doing now, anyway. The way things are, Jenson is somewhere between not noticing him at all and at least friendly. It’s not worth the risk to have Jenson start disliking him.

_I’m so stupid._ This time it’s not the horrid little voice talking, it’s just him telling himself.

_He looked really happy about the cake though._ He sighs again, but this time it’s a much happier sound. It’s somehow easier to be happy when you’re thinking about Jenson Button smiling.

 

\--

 

“Why are you stalking me?” Jenson is tired of tripping over Fernando and/or Mark at every turn. He can’t figure out what they’re up to, and it’s horrible because he has a feeling it’s some kind of long-running prank or something. He just can’t see the bit that’s supposed to be funny.

“Are not ‘stalking’...” Fernando says, making quote-marks in the air and glancing over at Mark. “ _You_ are still watching _us_ to know that, no?”

“Only because you’re everywhere! I can’t figure out what the hell you’re up to and it’s driving me up the wall!” He lowers his voice as they walk in to the press-conference. The room is filling up pretty quick but there’s always a bit of scuffle regarding who sits where, all the photographers jockeying for positions at the front.

“We’re supposed to be here.” Mark says with an air of the utmost innocence as the moderator brusquely points out their assigned seats. Jenson is in front, between the other two. Great.

“Yeah but you’re not supposed to be everywhere else.” Jenson huffs, adjusting his microphone just for something to do. “I’m not checking for monsters under my bed, I’m checking for you lot.” Fernando and Mark lean in behind him, talking so low he can’t make out what they’re saying. He ignores them as best he can.

 

There’s a drivers’ meeting that evening, just the normal walkthrough of the procedure for race-day. Mark gets Fernando a coffee, Jenson doesn’t even notice. He sits down next to a folded-up jacket, thinking this will at least minimize the chances of him ending up between his two stalkers. He hears “Mark, no!” whispered sharply, and then Mark is moving the jacket aside to sit down on his right.

“Hiya.” Mark says, grinning, sipping his coffee. He seems pleased with himself for some reason. Fernando has grudgingly moved the jacket even further away and sat down next to Mark. There’s a vague sort of tingling in the back of Jenson’s mind, like there’s something he’s supposed to be doing. Whatever it is, it eludes him.

“Yeah, you two aren’t stalking me. Right.” He focuses on glaring at Mark and Fernando.

“I got... oh.” Mark and Fernando are no longer looking at Jenson, so for a second he feels like he’s winning their little stalking-argument. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He says, casting a quick glance to his left. Someone hands him a cup, and then leaves. Looking back at his pursuers, Fernando now has his eyebrows raised so high they are in danger of disappearing into his hair. Mark looks like he’s about to either slap Jenson, or start laughing.

“What?”

“... you... you must seriously be the... I have no words for how incredibly daft you are mate. Just... no words.” Mark gets up with a little chuckle, moving to where there are another two seats free. Fernando looks after him, then back at Jenson with something that almost looks like pity.

“What?!” Jenson repeats.

“Is a wonder you are allowed to drive.” Fernando shakes his head and walks after Mark. Jenson is left sitting alone, and it isn’t until then he realizes he’s holding something. It’s a cup of tea. Funny. He can’t remember getting one. He takes a sip. Oh well. He must have gotten it earlier, before his stalkers started bothering him again. It’s perfect, either way.

 

\--

 

“Was his jacket, and he was being brave! Was not nice to do that to him Mark!”

“Seriously, his face was worth a whole lot of _easy_ points mate, did you see him?” Mark knows Fernando isn’t angry, not really. He sees Mark’s side of things, at the very least.

“Yes, fine, is a lot of points. But was not nice, and we have to say! Jenson has no idea!”

“No, Nando. Let them sort out their own crap.” Mark grumbles.

“But we are sure!” Mark has to give him that. They are sure, and they did agree to tell Jenson when they were.

“Fine.” He concedes. “Fine. But we can’t just up and tell him, I mean... what if he does something stupid, or hates him or something?”

“He does not hate him, he just... does not know.” Fernando can’t quite believe it, that Jenson doesn’t notice. “Maybe...” he says after thinking it over for a little while. “Maybe Jenson is still keeping his eye on us? So he is distracted?”

“So what do you want us to do, just leave him alone? It’ll take him ages to figure this out on his own.” After what happened at the meeting, Fernando is willing to agree.

“No, we still say, but when we have, we leave him alone. And we do not say everything, just maybe tell him to... open his eyes?”

“Yeah, open his eyes and get a pair of glasses, binos, and a seeing-eye dog. I thought he was gonna flip when he saw us, and Jense didn’t even see him.” Mark snickers.

“Is not funny. Is sad, he is trying so hard.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic, Nando.” He gives him a little kiss.

“And you are sometimes just hopeless.” Fernando replies, but kisses him back anyway.

 

\--

 

Sometimes, he thinks to himself, it’s pretty shit being famous. Not when you do something good, then it’s awesome. It’s when you do stupid, dumb things and they end up on camera which means they end up on the internet and then they’re there forever; then, it’s pretty shit. He’s seen the clip so many times he knows it by heart, which is just silly because he was _there_ for part of it. It’s just... Jenson looks so happy.

He’s become something of an expert at muting the horrible bit. Right after they talk. Then hitting the button again just before Jenson says his name. Then he says it looks like he’s a fan.

_A fan. Yeah. That’s me. A stupid idiot fan of yours who doesn’t know when to give up._

He clicks the circly-arrow and the clip starts over.

 

\--

 

Jenson opens the door to find Fernando standing outside. From the softness of the knock, the Spaniard either thought he was already asleep, or was hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“Can I come in?”

“That all depends, have you come to hide under the bed?” Fernando snickers and shakes his head, Jenson lets him in.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure? Have you guys divvied up shifts on me?” Neither being allowed to drink the night before a race, he offers the other a bottle of water. They sit down on the couch.

“No no, just came to talk.” Silence falls and Fernando realizes Jenson has no intention of helping him out. He decides to dive right in.

“When you figured out... me and Mark.” He begins. Jenson nods. “You notice little things, things you do for more than a friend, no?” The Brit nods again. “What would you have done if... if I had been giving Mark points, but he did not?”

“What, like you’d do stuff for him and he didn’t do anything back?” It’s Fernando’s turn to nod. “Well that wouldn’t happen, you guys are... the way you’re acting I wasn’t kidding about the wedding mate. You guys are in love.”

Fernando’s cheeks heat up. He knows full well he’s in love with Mark, but having someone else talk about it is something else.

“Si, but what if not?”

“I guess I... eh...” Jenson is confused. “I’m not sure, I guess...” Fernando stays silent. He isn’t going to be hinting Jenson along.

“I mean, in a way, maybe he didn’t do anything back because he didn’t want to, right? Not that that would happen, but you know what I mean, right?” Fernando nods. Jenson’s brow is furrowed and he’s thinking hard.

“Then again, maybe if Mark hadn’t noticed you giving him points...” he stops talking. There’s a small glimmer of realization in his eyes, which start darting rapidly from left to right like he’s reading something only he can see.

“Si.” Fernando says. “So would you tell Mark, if you knew for sure I give him points and he gives none back?”

“I’ve... but...” It’s _there_ , it’s just beyond his grasp. Something about what Fernando is saying is ringing all sorts of bells inside of him but he can’t _quite_ put his finger on it.

“I guess I’d... eh...” he can’t figure out what to say and his brain has decided to rattle through a bunch of nonsensical memories, flashes of meetings and doorways and elevators, press conferences and well-wishes and a rainy day and...

“... coffee.” He finally says. “Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_.” Fernando says, getting up. “Am not saying you have to do anything just... now you know.” Jenson looks up at him with such endearing _helplessness_ that Fernando laughs softly and has to put his hands on his shoulders.

“You will figure it out.” The Spaniard leaves. Jenson remains sitting on the couch for much longer than he intended, trying to think back. How has he not noticed? Is he really _that_ stupid? And what’s he going to do now?

 

The next day the race is uneventful, as far as Formula 1-races go. Mark notices Jenson acting distracted, seemingly unable to focus on the reporters’ questions in the media pen. He knew this would happen. Jenson is the kind of guy who gets insecure when his usual suave manner can’t fix whatever situation he’s in, and Mark’s not so sure it will work in this case. Oh well, at least he knows, the Aussie figures. And when Jenson starts staring at a certain someone, looking away from the camera for so long Lee McKenzie actually _taps him on the arm_ , Mark chalks up the first two returned points and leaves the media-area with a snicker.

The party that evening is a pretty quiet affair. Most of the drivers are already focused on the next race and are mostly taking it easy, looking to call it an early night before flying off to wherever they are all going tomorrow. Fernando has been sipping the same glass of wine since he arrived; he’s happy to just sit at a table and let company come to him. He’s waiting for Mark to finish up his conversations so they can leave. Felipe is sitting next to him chatting away, happy about how the race went and kind of excited as usual, but Fernando is only listening with half an ear. A certain someone is sitting at a table some ways away, looking unhappy, slowly peeling the label off of a bottle of beer. Then Fernando realizes Jenson hasn’t bothered to even come to the party. It’s definitely two points. The younger man is actually _pouting._

Jenson spends the week between races thinking. Racing always comes first, but he has plenty of time to just... think. He can’t figure out how long this has been going on. He can’t figure out how he hasn’t noticed. Thinking back, he remembers some occasions, things he should have seen – and finds he’s missed everything he paid such close attention to when Mark and Fernando were doing it. It takes him a couple of days just to realize Mark and Fernando have been counting points on him just like he did to them, and it sends him into an uncontrollable bout of laughter. Those little bastards!

The more important question remains though: what to do now. Jenson has realized some of his envy towards his friends was rooted in fear. Fear that the friendship would change or even end because of what was going on between them. It’s showing no signs of it though. But Mark and Fernando aren’t exactly friendly with... but they let him know _anyway_. That’s saying something. He’s been so wrapped up in everything else he hasn’t given himself time to feel anything, hasn’t been open to the possibility that someone was even... he shakes his head. There’s nothing wrong with seeing where things might go, and he can at the very least apologize.

 

\--

 

He’s sitting on one of the benches at the back of the paddock, blissfully alone. Controlled chaos will start soon enough, but for now he’s happy to just sit here with his cap pulled low over his face. The sun is comfortably warm and for a moment he’s relaxing without thinking of where Jenson is or what he’s doing or who he’s doing it with...

The bench moves with the weight of another person settling next to him. _Oh great._

“Hi.”

He opens his eyes and turns quickly but in the bright sunlight it’s no use, he can’t see a thing. When everything starts shifting into focus though, he finds he wasn’t wrong about the voice, wasn’t just thinking about it so hard that he heard it. No, it’s actually Jenson who’s sat down next to him, looking right at him and wearing sort of a sheepish smile.

“Hello..?” he croaks. The sound is undignified. He tries to look less freaked out than he feels but isn’t sure he’s succeeding.

“I’m... really sorry.” Jenson begins, looking away but then raising his eyes again, blue meeting blue, and there’s a stab of panic. _No no no don’t say you’re sorry, what are you sorry about?_

“I’m sorry but I think... I’ve kind of been acting like a bit of an arse to you. Let’s... let’s say I’ve had a lot on my mind and... eh... would you like to go for a coffee?”

Despite the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, his heart thundering, his hands shaking and the absolute certainty that the best course of action would just be to run away, Sebastian Vettel manages a smile that he hopes doesn’t look completely deranged.

“Don’t you prefer tea?” Jenson smiles back at him.

“You’re right, I do.”

 

\--

 

“See? Is love.” When Jenson’s hand tentatively, almost accidentally, brushes over Sebastian’s and the younger man coyly looks away, Fernando has seen everything he needs to see.

“He’s still a little shit.” Mark says, putting an arm around Fernando’s shoulders and pulling him closer so he can plant a kiss in his hair.

“Is true, but now they can deal with each other. Is love.” He puts his arm around Mark’s waist and they start walking back together.

“They’re gonna have to learn to be discreet about it though, right now they’re racking up the points...”

 

\-- The End --

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, this was all in good fun. :)  
> ... and again; thank you to everyone who read, kudosed, commented, everything! You guys give me life! :)

**Author's Note:**

> All in good fun, as usual.  
> Thanks for the read! :)


End file.
